


Stellar Nurseries

by Bythoseburningembers



Series: Twin Stars [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adam (Voltron) Lives, Adam is bored, Alternate Universe, Comedy, Cute, Finding Purpose, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Mentioned Curtis (Voltron), Missions Gone Wrong, Romantic Fluff, Romelle is a magnet for trouble, Self Confidence Issues, Shiro is a good Captain, Space Dad Shiro (Voltron), This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, We're in space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:08:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24671323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bythoseburningembers/pseuds/Bythoseburningembers
Summary: Its been two weeks since Adam agreed to accompany his back-from-the-dead lover into outer space to finish liberating the universe from Galran control. However, on a ship where he's surrounded by the saviors of the universe, interstellar geniuses and rebel warriors, how can this normal guy establish himself as a useful part of the mission?
Relationships: Acxa/Veronica (Voltron), Adam & Matt Holt, Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Atlas & Shiro (Voltron), Keith & Shiro (Voltron)
Series: Twin Stars [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1704553
Comments: 8
Kudos: 52
Collections: When We Were Birds





	1. The Blueprints

_Stellar Nurseries: An area of outer space within a dense nebula in which gas and dust are contracting, resulting in the formation of new stars._

* * *

When he was sixteen, Adam had a dream of his death. Only Takashi knew this.

He had dreamed that he was ejected out of a jet, free-falling thousands of feet to the Earth, his entire world made-up of the vivid blues and creamy white of sky. The ground had been a prick in the massiveness of his environment, a brown dot awaiting his final embrace. It was a reoccurring dream from then on.

However, as terrifying as it sounded, Adam loved that dream.

He loved how the air had plugged his ears so all he could comprehend was the roar of air and his own blood. He loved the way the clouds dissipated against his face when he smacked into them, the coolness. He loved the weightlessness of falling. That was the entire reason he had wanted to fly jets, to _know_ that feeling in real time all the time. Adam loved nothing more than free-falling.

Space? Sure, it was cool. But he had never been a space kid. Planets and constellations were Takashi’s thing. Adam loved sky. He loved air. He loved _himself_ when he was falling, descending due to nothing but gravity and the position of Earth.

Aboard _Atlas,_ there wasn’t much falling involved. Unless one counted falling in love, which was the entire reason Adam was on the damned semi-sentient ship thing, hanging upside down on the couch in his apartment. The Television was playing _Bee-bo-bi,_ a show that Coran _swore_ on his grandfather’s klooznack was funny, but to Adam just sounded like a whole lot of gibberish. It sounded slightly less insane upside down. Hence his current situation.

Bored.

And stagnant.

And upside down.

True, he was officially co-captain of _The Atlas_ , made so by the ship’s original Captain. His boyfriend-lover-wheat bread. However, since much of _Atlas’s_ more complex functions were a mystery to everyone, including its creators, Adam had one job. He could communicate with _Atlas,_ fly it if need be, create a giant monster-machine thing. Yet when no one needed that machine, which was ninety-nine percent of the time, Adam only got in the way. Besides, he had gone into a coma last time, so…

“I’m basically just eye-candy,” he speculated aloud. The blood was rushing to his face, but at least it was a new sensation. “Really handsome, yummy eye-candy,” the door behind him slid open and a blast of air was his signal that his lover had arrived. “I need a job!” he called.

It had been two weeks since _The Atlas_ had taken off from Earth’s surface. They were floating just outside of the Milky Way solar system, performing tests on _Atlas’s_ near infinite power and planning next steps. Since Takashi was the main captain, he was around a lot less than Adam preferred.

“Like, right now?” Takashi breathed, brushing past him in a rush. His Black Captain’s uniform was wrinkled. He started rifling through their mess of papers on the dinner table. “Because I have a few meetings with ground forces that I _really_ do not want to be part of…”

Well, that sounded like Adam didn’t want to be part of them either.

He snorted and grappled for the remote, lying a few feet away from him where he had mistakenly kicked it. “No, Takashi, permanently. A job you don’t have to tell me to do. My own project,” with a sigh, Adam sat up. The remote was out of his reach. He leaned against the back of the couch instead, watched one of the most capable men in the universe struggle to find paperwork. And keys. He’d probably lost his keys again.

“Sam’s debriefing papers?” He asked. A frantic nod. Adam threw himself back unto the couch and hid his eyes in the crook of his elbow. “They’re on the cupboard next to the coffee pot, babe.”

“Thanks!" Kashi gasped, throwing out his prosthetic to rifle through the papers. "Oh man, what time is it? I need food," the cabinets above the oven clattered as they were opened and closed, greedy hands rifling through them when Adam had just spent two hours organizing everything. He huffed indignantly. Why did he even try?

"Where are the pop-tarts?" Takashi called.

 _Oh shit._ Adam was hard-pressed to choke back his instinctive alarm. "Um... Did you try looking in the cabinets below the sink?" 

A suspicious silence. Takashi hummed. He caught on pretty quickly after that, which was good because it meant that at least _Takashi_ wasn't just a gorgeous face. "Oh my gosh, Adam! Did you eat the last pop-tart!?" 

"You're not supposed to be eating pop-tarts for lunch anyway!" Adam snapped, in a pathetic attempt at saving himself from scrutiny. "Besides, I was... Uh..." He snapped his fingers. "Stress-eating!"

"So you ate an _entire box?_ "

That was a fair point. Adam had a counterargument ready though. "I guess you wouldn't remember, but being in space is very stressful!"

"Well, what am I supposed to eat?" Takashi whined, like the three-year-old he secretly was. Honestly, Adam couldn't fathom why anyone supposed he was a mature, disciplined adult. He ate pop-tarts for lunch and lost track of his keys and important paperwork like every other poorly-functioning workaholic. 

"I don't know, what do you usually eat for lunch? Bravery with a side of nonexistent self-preservation skills?" He demanded. Even past his closed eyelids, he could feel it when Takashi hovered over the couch. His body was warm and bulky and the mechanics built into his upper shoulder let out a low, comforting hum. Adam could feel his judgmental stare. He peeked out from beneath his elbow and arched a brow.

“What?” He challenged. 

“Nothing,” a grin. “I just still can’t believe you’re here,” oh. Well then. Pop-tarts evidently forgotten, Takashi leaned over and snatched Adam’s lips in a kiss. Which was nice. Adam couldn’t help but run his fingers over a smooth chin, even as the word _eye-candy_ resonated in his mind.

“I’m serious, Kashi,” Adam continued when they pulled apart. Kashi’s eyes softened, and he had that expression which said _I’m listening very intently to everything you’re saying_ when his attention was actually drifting. Adam slapped at his cheek lightly. Kashi blinked. “I want my own job. My own task.”

“You fly _Atlas.”_

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, when _you’re_ not flying _Atlas,_ which is never because you’re a control freak.”

“Ha! I got the debrief papers!” His prosthetic popped back to his side with an audible _hiss._ “Continue.”

“Am I supposed to just stay in the room and bake cookies until you call me out for an hour of badassery and then,” he waved his hand. “Back to the kitchen with Adam the eye-candy Captain?”

Kashi hummed beneath his breath, mouth quirking at the corners. “You _are_ the most badass cook I’ve ever met,” Adam reached over to slap his rear in retaliation. It didn’t seem to do much because Kashi just chuckled. “Adam, I hear you. But what do you _want_ to do?”

He threw up his hands. “I don’t know! Something separate from what you do!” Kashi’s brows crinkled. It would have been cute if he weren’t the essence of all Adam’s problems. As usual.

“I do everything.”

 _Exactly the problem._ Adam groaned. “And whose fault is that, Mr. Overachiever? No one ever comes to me for anything. I’m a workaholic. I’m a freedom fighter, damn it! I can’t work under these conditions!”

“What conditions? You sit in here and eat food all day. _Including_ all my pop-tarts.”

“Exactly. Ugh, there has to be _something_ …” Kashi nodded. He was scanning Sam’s debrief papers thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. Adam rolled his eyes and jabbed Shiro in the chest. “You can’t even read that report. It’s just a bunch of numbers to you.”

He knew he had hit the mark when Takashi started inching toward the door. “Listen, babe, I have a meeting in,” he checked the watch he wore around his real wrist for some reason. He had an entire alien arm that could do practically _anything_ and he still wore watches. “Now. I’m supposed to be in a meeting _right now,_ but I think you’re going to have to figure this out on your own.”

“You were no help anyway,” Adam grouched.

“Just… Think about your strengths,” he suggested, pecking Adam on the cheek before he could demand an example of said strengths. “You have a ton. Ok. Love you, bye!” Then he was jogging out of the room, leaving Adam with a remote control, an episode of a show he couldn’t understand and a sweltering dilemma.

Adam collapsed back onto the couch with a groan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm looking to write a fic where Shiro and Adam have a legit argument but I'm blanking because I love this couple so much. Can someone suggest a valid thing they can have a full-blown argument about?


	2. The Self-Defense Class

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam and Romelle try to prepare The Atlas for imminent attack. It goes badly very quickly.

Searching for a task aboard _The Atlas_ was easy. Adam had spent hours scrubbing down rebel ships or helping Coran change fuel gauges. The entire ship was massive, as large as five twelve story skyscrapers packed into one body. There were thousands of people working at any given moment, engineers and pilots and fighters and chefs.

Yet those were errands, random chores, handyman work. _Jobs_ were assigned. Adam wanted one of those and wandering the ship wasn’t liable to get him anywhere.

Thus, he found himself in front of Romelle’s door. In the past two weeks, he had found himself gravitating toward the Altean girl. Not only was she cheerful and friendly (and somehow, she knew the business of literally _everyone_ on the ship) but they could actually spar without him fearing she might kill him.

Besides, she was fun to talk too. The Altean who had operated the Robeast was still unconscious in the med-bay. Coran and Allura were usually busy in their respective roles. Romelle been banned from the engineer’s room though, for reasons neither she nor Takashi would divulge but Adam was sure was a wonderful story. 

“I’ve been looking for a job too,” she pouted when he finished explaining his dilemma. “All I do is sit here and wait for us to be attacked or boarded.”

Adam cocked a brow at her. “Why…?"

Romelle waved a dismissive hand. “It’s going to happen. I give it four dobashes once we leave the solar system.”

Well, far be it for him to argue with experience. Adam leaned against the door and crossed his arms. “What can you do? Maybe we can start our own work,” he suggested. Romelle sat up in her bed excitedly.

“Well… I can play an instrument!” She plucked the ukulele that Hunk had given her from beside his leg. Admittedly, she had gotten pretty good at it. Yet there wasn't even a burgeoning musical inclination aboard _The Atlas_. Food? Sure. Photography? Of course. Yet music had yet to take off as a viable pass-time or interest.

Besides, the last instrument Adam had played had been when he was eight years old and had tried the Trombone for a week before getting bored of the noise. He wasn't eager to revisit those days. 

“And?” He pressed, lest Romelle become distracted by the music. She tapped her chin.

“Well… I can fight, and break into the lions!”

"Even the Black One?" He asked, perking up. Romelle nodded and Adam rubbed his chin. Technically, pranking Keith wasn't a job, though he did see it as his responsibility. He filed the knowledge away for later. 

“Can you fly a ship?” He continued. 

She shrugged. “With directions,” Adam slapped his forehead. He wanted to ask what she had done in The Colony, but the Altean settlement was notoriously painful ground for Romelle.

“Romelle… Ok, fine, so between the two of us we can fight, play music, and cook. I can fly, but it’s been awhile,” that was a very limited resume. Adam had sworn he had done more in his life. Hadn’t he once been an _impressive_ person?

“Why don’t we teach people how to fight?” He blinked, startled by her random outburst. “The training rooms are usually open. Not everyone knows how to defend themselves, either, but they’ll need to know, for when we’re attacked by space pirates or something,” she swung her legs, eyeing him thoughtfully. “What do you think?”

He grinned. “I think it’s a great idea.”

* * *

Five hours later, and with a tiny bit of persuasion on his part to have Atlas meld them a separate training room, and Adam stood in front of a small group of mainly humans. Though the ship was massive, word caught on quickly whenever there was something new. About twenty-five people stood before him, a small army awaiting his command. Adam inhaled a deep breath, pleased.

Romelle appeared at his side, watching as the others stretched in preparation. “This is going to be _so_ fun!” She squealed, shaking his arm. He nodded. He and Romelle had agreed to focus on basic self-defense skills first.

“You didn’t bring The Gladiator, did you?” He asked suspiciously. Coran and Keith had thought it a _marvelous_ idea to recreate The Gladiator as a fighting simulation. Everyone was terrified of it.

“No,” Romelle sniffed. “We do not _need_ the gladiator. We have these,” she flashed one bulging bicep with a grin. If Adam didn’t know that Altean’s had superior strength, he might have been unimpressed.

“Good,” he folded his hands behind his back and turned to the assembly. “Alright, everyone! In rows of four, please,” _thank goodness this is a ship of soldiers_ , he thought as they all quietly moved to obey him. “Welcome to our first class on basic self-defense. You’re here to learn how to block kicks and jabs. My partner Romelle here,” she waved. “Will help me to demonstrate. First thing you have to know. Stance,” he lowered himself into a partial crouch, legs apart, hips splayed, arms up. The others quickly copied.

“Your power comes from your hips. If you stay rooted,” he stomped a foot. “It will be harder for your enemy to get you on the ground.”

“And kill you,” Romelle added cheerily.

“And kill you,” he agreed. “To avoid imminent death, it’s important to have your feet under you to grab their blow. Romelle and I will demonstrate,” he pivoted on a heel to face her. “Alright. Hit me. _Gently_ ,” he felt this was always important to stress with the aliens on board. 

Romelle nodded and lunged out with a fist. Adam caught her hand with his palm, slowly redirecting it down and to the side. “Do you see how I caught it, and sent her punch away?” Several nods. “Ok. Now, who wants to volunteer to try?”

The first one to step up was the lanky man from the bridge crew. Adam smiled. “Curtis! Good man. C’mon up. Romelle, why don’t you take Alesha?” He nodded to the second volunteer. Romelle danced on her toes, waving the shy, demure systems mechanic up front.

Adam turned to Curtis. He was tall, well-built, nice face and beautiful eyes. If Adam were not a taken man, he might be interested… “Spread you knees a little more,” he tried to keep his mind as far away from any traitorous thoughts. “That’s it. Ok, and are your feet planted? Distribute your weight to your toes, maybe. That’s it. Now, I’m going to punch you. You grab and maneuver me away.” They did that for a few moments. Curtis was a natural, swaying and watching Adam move intently.

Adam pulled away with a smile. “Great job. Now, lets spice things up, shall we? I want you to steer me to the side and tug. Just lightly. Here, I’ll show you…”

Or, he might have. Adam had his Curtis’s wrist in his grip, was gradually pulling him forward to prepare the class to grab their opponents in headlocks. Then Romelle ran into his back, knocking him forward into Curtis, who _rolled_ to try and slow their landing.

It went downhill from there.

* * *

“A broken _leg,_ Adam?” Takashi demanded later, unfairly. Adam accepted the loose rag filled with ice gratefully, placing it on the large bump sprouting along his temple. “What were you teaching them, Tae Kwon do?”

“It was Romelle’s fault,” he whined.

“Ok,” Shiro sounded very much as if he doubted Adam’s innocence. “Maybe self-defense classes are _not_ your thing. Besides, I thought you knew, Keith and Iverson already started giving out classes,” Adam started to surge upwards, but his head throbbed too much, and the world spun on its axis. He collapsed back into the soft pillows and squeezed his eyes shut.

“No wonder Curtis was so good,” he grouched. “Why didn’t you _tell_ me?”

“I didn’t know what you were doing until I got a call that you’d broken Curtis’s leg and injured ten members of my crew!” The bed dipped as he sat beside him. “How’s your head?”

Adam groaned in reply. “Don’t worry, Adam,” Kashi assured him. “I’m sure you’ll find something to do. And you’re going to be _incredible_ at it.”

“How do you know?” He demanded, head throbbing. At this rate, he would be lucky if he could stand up in the morning much less find his own project to work on. Despite the pain, he still felt Takashi’s pert lips press against the unprotected skin of his forehead.

“Because I know you,” he chuckled.


	3. The Gardening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam and friends try their hands at gardening. Pidge and Keith are required to make a last-minute rescue. Shiro is just trying to get Adam to believe in himself.

The next day, the swelling and subsequent headache had lessened enough that Adam could actually open his eyes. Takashi had left before he’d woken, but when Adam looked over, he found a bowl of warm-ish oatmeal on the bedside table. It was clearly made by Hunk, otherwise it would been black and tasted of charcoal, but Adam appreciated the thought. He had even started to feel less useless as he scarfed down breakfast.

Then Romelle came to visit. She sat at the edge of his bed. “Ok, so maybe we don’t have to be in-charge-in-charge. We could join a team instead,” she thought aloud. Adam said nothing, only jabbed another spoonful of breakfast into his mouth. “What do you think?” She asked.

He hoped she could feel his incipient rage. “I think that you’re not allowed to have ideas anymore.”

Romelle rolled her eyes, as if he were the one over-reacting when his forehead still had a giant knot on it. “Just hear me out! What if we help Colleen with the gardening? She says she always needs more hands. We could even start our own garden,” she wiggled her eyebrows temptingly.

Adam shook his head. He had been down this road before. “I’m not exactly gardening material, Romelle,” he knew this from experience. When he had been hiding in Japanese mountains during the war, they had tried to plant a garden. It had excelled at growing tasteless, mushy tubers.

And nothing else.

Adam was never going back. Romelle crossed her arms, bottom lip protruding like an overgrown toddler. This time, he rolled his eyes. “Well, do you have a _better_ idea? Or are you content to sit here eating oatmeal like… Like…” She spluttered for a proper insult. He arched his brow at her. Suddenly, Romelle grinned. “Like _eye-candy_?” She dared.

Adam snapped to attention, the word tingling like electricity down his spine. He was tempted to chuck the bowl of oatmeal at Romelle’s head, kept at bay only by how tasty it was. “I am _not_ eye-candy,” he snapped. Romelle leaned forward, eyes twinkling.

“Then _prove_ it,” she purred.

...

“Colleen!” Romelle sang, dragging Adam into the room by the wrist. He sighed heavily. How had she talked him into this? “I’ve arrived!”

Colleen, hidden behind a large palm tree, popped up and gave them a wide grin. Adam smiled back, soothed. Colleen had that effect on almost everyone she came across. “Hello Romelle. Adam! How’s your head?” She asked. _Does everyone know?_ Adam wondered as Romelle bounded over to the small greenhouse in the corner.

“It _is_ better,” he answered. Colleen nodded.

“Accidents happen, dear,” she assuaged him. “At least Coran and Sam made those healing pod things, so everyone could get back on their feet in no time!”

“Thank goodness,” he agreed dryly. At least if there was a greater need for doctors, he could have taken over that area. But no, they just _had_ to have a magical alien healing contraption.

“Axca!” Romelle yelped from the green house. Adam swiveled around in time to see the Altean leaning over a lithe, muscled body curiously. “What are _you_ doing here?” She demanded.

Axca, on her knees next to the tomato plants, snipped a stray vine harshly. “Veronica suggested that gardening would be a good outlet for my anger,” she informed them, with no great excitement. Adam hummed sympathetically. Love made you do things you’d never imagined alright.

“Er…Is it working?” He asked.

Axca’s mouth twisted at the sides. “ _No.”_

He and Romelle exchanged a glance. Axca was naturally… Hostile, but with clippers in her hands, she was also volatile and deadly _. Alright then._ He turned back to the head horticulturalist.

“How can we help Colleen?”

She clasped her hands together excitedly. That way, she looked exactly like her daughter whenever Pidge found a new piece of technology. It was charming. “Oh, I’m so glad you two are here! Follow me,” she waved a hand. Adam and Romelle followed her. Axca set down her clippers and trailed them to the very back of the room, where individual pots were placed near the back wall. Large, multi-colored lights shone on them from above.

Colleen stopped in front of the fourth pot. Adam peeked inside, saw nothing except soil and a tiny shrub sprouting in the middle. Along the sides, small dandelions and moss were beginning to push out of the soil. “I’m growing a cybernetic orchid in here, and I could use some weeds pulled,” she explained, handing them all some leather gloves.

Adam knelt beside the pot and squinted at the shrub. “A cybernetic orchid?” Axca and Romelle stood on the other side, also studying it.

Colleen nodded. “Yes. Inspired by the Olkari. This orchid, theoretically, can grow petals that are ten times stronger than any of our known metals, bar Voltron of course.” Romelle did a little dance in place, clapping her hands. Adam pursed his lips, impressed.

“That’s so amazing!”

“Yeah, but this little bud needs a lot of love,” she patted the bud gently, as if it were a dog. “It’s a stubborn one, as you can see.”

Adam hummed contemplatively. “Have you switched out the soil?” He may not have had a green thumb, but he knew the bare basics of growing plants. Colleen rubbed her chin. Adam smirked. Matt did that.

“A hundred times,” she agreed with a shrug. “I think it’s just stubborn.”

“I have just the idea!” Romelle cried, with a snap of her fingers. Without another word, she swiveled on her heel and hurtled out the room, swift as a cheetah. Axca watched her go, then shook her head.

“Alteans,” she sighed, as if this were an age-old problem.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” Colleen asked. Adam tugged the scratchy pair of gloves into place, giving a determined nod. Axca shrugged and knelt on the other side, as graceful as a sparrow. Meanwhile, Colleen went about to the other pots, watering and clipping them as need-be. Adam filled her in on his dilemma.

“I know just how you feel, Adam,” Colleen agreed once he had finished, with a sage nod. She stood akimbo, studied one of the palm trees critically. “I love my work, but sometimes, I feel so _insignificant_ on the ship. Everyone has such grand and complex duties, and there is an entire _universe_ out there. Sam, Matt, and Katie already got to see it. I want to go out and have a little adventure of my own.”

Adam breathed a sigh of relief, glad that he was not alone in his feelings of pointlessness. On a ship where everyone was doing fantastic, impossible, remarkable things, what use were the rest of them, normal and human as they were?

“The universe is a dark, unforgiving, _hideous_ place filled with mercenaries, monsters and murderers,” Axca declared, expression darkening with each new descriptor until she was fairly glowering at the weeds she plucked from the soil. Adam and Colleen halted in place, staring.

Not for the first time, he wondered if Axca was ok.

At length, Colleen snorted and returned to her planting placidly. “Sounds like marriage,” she laughed breezily.

Adam barked a laugh. “Yeah,” he agreed.

Axca’s brows furrowed, but their casualness seemed to endear them to her. She clipped the weeds with less violence now, ducking her head. “What have you tried?” she asked. Adam begrudgingly described his and Romelle’s failed self-defense classes. Colleen seemed to think it was the funniest thing in the world.

“Don’t worry Adam. I’m sure we’ll find our own exploits pretty soon.”

“Romelle was right about that at least,” Axca piped in. “We’re bound to be attacked as soon as we leave The Milky Way.”

“I hope so,” he sighed. “Speaking of adventure, how did you convince Kashi to let the dog on board?” He had been wondering that for weeks. While not necessarily opposed to dogs, Takashi was a bit old-fashioned in his ideas of rank and file. Having animals aboard the ship -unless they were strategically important, like Keith’s wolf- was not necessarily what Adam would have called _martial law._

Colleen shrugged. “I didn’t. Katie did. Something about a puppy dog look?”

“Sounds accurate.”

“Here it is!” Romelle gasped, running back into the room. She skidded to a halt in front of them, a small vial of purplish liquid in one hand. She keeled over, slapped her hands against her knees, panting. Adam carefully grabbed the vial from her shaking fingers before it fell.

“What is that?” He asked.

Axca stood as if something had burned her. “It’s Quintessence. Where did you get it?”

“From under… Coran’s bed.”

“ _Why_ does Coran have a vial of quintessence under his bed?” Adam asked, because it seemed relevant and also because he was pretty sure Kashi would want to know.

“How should I know? Ask Coran,” Romelle shrugged and plucked the vial back. “Here, this should help out little imp grow into his full self!”

If the stories he’d heard about Quintessence were anything to go by, no, no it would not. He shook his head. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

But Colleen was staring at the vial with ill-disguised curiosity. No wonder she’d birthed two genius children. She was just as bad. “I’ve never tried quintessence before,” the wrinkles beside her eyes crinkled as she grinned. “Let’s do it.”

 _We’re gonna die._ Adam and Axca skittered backwards, tugging Colleen to shelter behind a large glass case as Romelle approached the pot like a mad scientist. She held it far from her body and slowly wiggled a drop from the vial.

Then she dove for cover behind one of the other pots. Adam tensed, prepared for a sudden boom or smash. Several seconds passed, however, and when nothing exploded or stretched or even farted, he braved a look around the case.

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” he gulped, seeing nothing new. Colleen and Axca leaned over his shoulder.

“I suppose we tried,” Colleen sighed. “Come on. There are some other plants here that…”

“Um… Romelle, what is it doing?” Colleen’s mouth clicked shut as Axca pointed to the bud. It was now trembling in place, like a tiny ship preparing to take off. Romelle squealed.

“It’s growing!”

“It’s _mutating,”_ Axca corrected. She took a few hurried steps back. Adam’s fingers tightened around Colleen’s arm, gesturing wildly for Romelle to join them. 

“Into what?” he demanded, forcing his voice into some semblance of calm. Suddenly, Colleen paled.

“Oh no,” she gulped as the bud began to spread. The soil slid away under the large, green stem that was beginning to protrude from the pot, eventually gaining such weight that it splintered beneath the pressure. “I had to add Venus Fly Trap DNA into the formula to strengthen the petals…”

_Oh Quiznack._

“Everyone down!” He ordered, just as the stalk ran into the roof, sending spider-web cracks through the metal plating. A branch as large as Adam’s head and longer than his entire body suddenly lengthened, its tip growing until it was a bulbous, monstrous head with long, spindly teeth and a gawping mouth.

Also, it was drooling.

 _Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit!_ he thought, diving away just as their killer plant lunged for them, smashing through two glass cases, and effectively destroying the other pots.

“Romelle!” He shouted, shoving Colleen ahead of him as they made a mad dash for the door. The killer plant followed, smashing equipment and plants, sending it all flying away as it pursued, roaring. Spittle’s of sticky, sweet liquid spattered them from its mouth. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Romelle wailed. Suddenly, descending from the heavens, she landed on her feet in front of them protectively, sporting a fire extinguisher as if it were a gun. Adam supposed that he had to give her points for bravery. “Here, I’ve got it!”

It was at that moment that Axca decided to try and tackle the monster. She leapt through the air and landed on top of the large head, trying to stab at it with her clippers. Green oozed from the cuts, but otherwise the monster only roared again and tried to slam Axca’s body against the roof. “Axca!” Colleen cried as the Galra fighter was smacked against the metal roof repeatedly.

As if things weren’t already bad, the doors slid open, revealing Pidge and Keith in the doorway. “Hey mom! I brought Keith to help gar-ha ha ha!” Pidge stammered to a standstill, eyes wide. Keith stood beside her, a shocked expression on his face. “What is going….? Mom! What _is_ that thing?!” 

“We’ll explain _later_!” Romelle bellowed, bathing the distracted monster in white plumes of fire extinguisher. “Give us a hand, would you?!” A sinewy tentacle wrapped around her ankle and yanked her into the air. Romelle hung upside down, screaming. Adam gasped, slapped a hand against the nearest surface.

“Atlas, cut off gravity!”

 _Captain won’t be happy_ , Atlas informed him knowingly, even as Adam felt himself lift off the ground. The monster plant started to ascend with them, and so halted in its plans to devour Romelle and kill Axca. Keith suddenly flipped out his long, glowing blade thing.

“Pidge, give me a boost!” He called. Pidge used her position against the doors to kick Keith savagely _towards_ the monster. Adam’s heart skipped a beat. If Keith was eaten by a giant plant on his watch, Kashi was going to _skin him alive._

“Keith, be careful!” He snapped. But the Paladin leader was perfectly capable. With an inhuman howl, he sliced the monster’s head clean off the stem. Its giant head floated between him and Colleen. Axca floated away, shaking her head dizzily.

 _Down now?_ Atlas asked.

_Yes please._

“Argh!” Several voices cried out as they suddenly plummeted to the hard ground, landing in greenhouses, soil, fire extinguisher, and the slippery, webbed innards of the decapitated plant monster. Adam groaned and readjusted his glasses. The throb in his head began anew. “Everyone alright?” Keith demanded. Somehow, he had landed on his feet like a real hero. Or a real asshole. It was hard to tell.

There were random groans of affirmation. Pidge hurried to Colleen’s side to grab her arm and help haul her upwards. Axca spat a glob of green goo from her mouth as she sat up. Romelle waved a thumbs up from her position on her back.

Adam pushed himself onto his elbows. There was a distinct bruised ache on the right side of his body, but otherwise he felt fine. He rubbed his head and looked up into Keith’s severe expression. “Ha ha. Keith. Heyyyy,” he waved, tried to flash his brightest, most innocent smile. “I don’t suppose you could keep this between us, could you?”

Keith crossed his arms. “Oh, I am _so_ telling Shiro,” he promised.

...

Shiro was most unhappy. Which was a problem, because Kashi was incredibly sexy when he was unhappy with _other_ people, but when it was directed at Adam, he was just intimidating. He paced in front of their bed; jaw clenched. Adam sat on the edge of their bed, defeated, _again_ , and with an ice-pack pressed to his head, _again._

“ _Adam,”_ Kashi growled.

Adam was not in a very tolerant mood. He had just faced a giant plant monster, thank you very much. Its goo was still slathered over his body and it itched like crazy. “Shut up, ok?” He snapped. “Romelle is the one…!”

“How is it that in two days, you’ve managed to not only injure yourself, but several other people?” Takashi interrupted, harshly.

Adam glared. “I’m bored, Kashi!”

“So you sew mass havoc?” Kashi threw up his hands. Then pinched the bridge of his nose. “Adam, listen, this _cannot_ go on.”

Adam chucked the ice pack he had been holding aside and surged to his feet. “I’m not the only one! There are a whole lot of people looking for something _more!”_ he cried.

Kashi’s eyes flashed. “You’re on _the_ first human-alien technological invention in history, helping to defeat a race of beings that have enslaved entire planets for thousands of years!” he threw his arms out, as if to indicate their current situation. Adam scowled and crossed his arms. “What else could you _want_?!”

Well, when he said it like that, Adam’s worries sounded petty. Tears pricked his eyes as heat flushed over his shoulders and cheeks. But they weren’t, he knew that. “I want to actually be part of that mission!” He yelled.

“I keep telling you that there are meetings…”

“I don’t want to be your eye-candy!” Adam bawled. This, at least, confused Kashi enough that his suggestion faded into incoherent splutters. He looked as if he were trying to decide whether he was going to laugh or scream.

“M-my _what_?” He finally squeaked.

The words flooded out of Adam. With much gesticulating. “I left everything I knew, everything I was good at, to be here with you! But you know what, has it ever occurred to you that maybe I’m not _like_ you? That I’m not some cool, competent space explorer?! Maybe I’m _just a guy_ , ok? Just an attractive dude who doesn’t even have a purpose here among you… You… You _gods_ or whatever!”

Kashi blinked several times, taken aback. “Adam…”

Adam didn’t want to hear his assurances. He flopped back onto their bed and dug his palms into his eyes. “I’m going to be eye-candy for the rest of my life!” He howled, a tad bit dramatically. But it was how he felt.

Silence. Then the bed dipped slightly. “Do you want to go back?” Kashi whispered. Adam shook his head vehemently.

“I want _you,”_ he repeated. “But I’m just _a guy,_ Kashi.”

“Adam? Adam, c’mon. Look at me, please,” Adam obeyed, peering up at his lover through eyes clouded with tears. Kashi’s expression crumpled. He swiped one of the stray tears away.

“Adam, how much do I love you?” He asked.

 _Oh great, now he’s going to break me._ “Kashi…” He whined.

His uninjured side was nudged none too gently. “C’mon. How much?”

“More than there are stars in every sky,” he grumbled.

“That’s right,” Takashi agreed warmly. He stroked a strand of hair from Adam’s face, tenderly, the cold metal of his prosthetic like a balm to his headache. Adam sniffled.

“I want a _place_ here, Takashi. I want to build a home for myself too,” he hated how pathetic it sounded, but Takashi had never been one to judge his drama before.

“I know, _watashi no ai_. It isn’t going to be easy. This is all new for you, and no one expects you to acclimate completely in the first few days of being out here,” Kashi cooed. Adam growled.

“You saved an entire planet within _two_ _days_ of being in space. I’ve heard the stories,” he heard a new dashing tale of Kashi’s bravery and perseverance every two hours or so. Even as they filled him with unmistakable pride and admiration, he never stopped hearing the underlying question.

_And what do **you** do?_

“I didn’t have a choice. I was _on_ the planet,” was the dry reminder. Adam scoffed, _details._ “I’ll tell you what, we received a distress call today, from one of the planets that used to be a supporter in the Rebel Coalition. Galra mercenaries basically destroyed their cities and destabilized the planet. It’ll be a planet-wide enterprise to get them the help they need. Why don’t you assemble a team and head to the Capital?”

Adam scowled. “Why the capital?”

Kashi caressed his cheek. “There are still mercenaries on planet, hiding in the mountains. Then with the planet destabilizing, Voltron and _The Atlas_ are going to be busy elsewhere. If we fail, we’ll need you to evacuate everyone off-planet. Whoever goes to the capital has to be compassionate, stubborn and ready to lead at the drop of a hat,” a smile. “Know anyone who fits the description?”

“No,” Adam grouched, crossing his arms. “I fuckin _don’t_. Next.”

“Oh, come on, Adam,” Kashi needled, poking his shoulder. “I want you, specifically, because I know you can do it. You may think you’re just a regular guy, but you’re _not._ You’re incredible. And people need your help.”

Adam’s stomach roiled at the thought of commanding another team, but what other choice was there? Everything on ship went wrong whenever he tried to work with it. “When do we touch down?”


	4. The Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam and his team land on their first planet. There is a speech and some explosions.

Their touchdown was estimated at 0700 hours. Since Takashi and the Paladins would be busy preparing the crew for the imminent fight, Adam was left, as usual, wandering the halls of _Atlas_ looking for fellow troublemakers.

Or, to be more exact, his team. He was standing in front of Romelle’s door before he knew it, heart pounding. Some portion of him knew that he should have learned his lesson by now, but Adam was nothing if not persistent.

Romelle seemed to have lost her previous enthusiasm for the task. “What do you want me there for?” She demanded wearily. She gazed at him from upside down on her bed, lips pulled into a distinct pout. “I’m just a big screw-up.”

Adam considered trying a Takashi move and telling her that she was not a screw-up and she could never be one. But he didn’t have that good of a poker face, so he settled for the truth. “You’re not the only one,” he sighed, easing himself unto the bed next to her. He nudged her leg teasingly. “Besides, we started this thing together, we’re going to keep it going together.”

Romelle chewed her bottom lip. “I don’t know, Adam… I’ve never been to other planets before without Allura or the Paladins…”

Adam had never been to another planet _at all_ , but far be it from him to steal Romelle’s moment of existential crisis. “You’ll have me!” He pointed out. This, if possible, made Romelle look even more dour than before. Her blonde pigtails flipped as she surged upright again with a groan of frustration.

“But every time we’re together, we get into trouble!” She cried.

“Exactly,” he poked at her sides until she smiled. “It’s perfect.”

Romelle gazed at him with a dimmer version of her usual brightness for a long moment. He met her gaze, and the cheer gradually returned. “Are you _sure_ you want me there?” She stressed. He slammed a fist to his chest.

“Absolutely. Who else would be my right hand?”

Romelle was silent for a grand total of twenty more seconds before capitulating. “Ok. Yeah!” She sprung off the bed, dancing on her toes. “This will be fun! We’re going to help so many people!” Then, cocking her head, she demanded; “but who _else_ is part of our team?”

_If all goes according to plan, a whole lot of people looking for more._

He waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, you’ll see.”

...

Even Bae-Bae fell silent at the carnage. Adam glanced at his team to see who did and did not look surprised. Matt. Axca and Romelle did not seem at all disturbed by the mass a carnage that had obviously befallen this planet. Colleen and Elijah, however, kept their heads on a swivel, staring wide-eyed at the debris of fallen buildings and the smears of blood on the gravelly floor.

This planet, according to their sources, had undergone a brutal bombing campaign shortly after Voltron vanished. They had once been staunch allies in the Rebellion, but they had paid for their bravery in blood. Galra factions still held control of what little population existed, but a bio-scan of the planet revealed some people hiding out in the rubble of the Capital city.

And it was, indeed, rubble.

The ground trembled again. The planet was breaking apart at the seams. Or Voltron had begun their attacks. It was hard to tell. Adam clasped the gun in his hands. It was ten times more silent and efficient than anything they had created on Earth, but the basic features held true. His finger twitched against the trigger.

“Looks like the Galra destroyed… Everything,” Colleen peeped, close to his right. Bae-Bae, trotting along beside her, whimpered. Even the sky was torn apart by smoke and pollution, a murky dark gray that obscured the light of the twin suns above.

Matt, leading the way with his bio-scanner, growled low in his throat. “Yeah, that happens a lot. Come on. According to our last known communications, the Queen should be there,” he jabbed a finger at a large structure, cave-like. Adam cocked his head. He imagined that once it had been a large skyscraper, but not it lay demolished on its side, surrounded by rocks and wires and bloodstains.

They knew the native population had flocked underground to avoid the bombings. This may as well have been one of their hideouts. “Do you have life forms?”

“Yeah. One is approaching us now.” Adam grunted, but he did not lower his gun. Bio-scanners could not pick up whether they would meet friend or foe, after all.

But the being who emerged from the cave entrance was no Galra. She was taller than all of them, certainly, and reminded Adam very much of the traditional paintings he had seen of Angels with skin the color of twilight and eyes that burned like suns. Strong-bodied, glowing, with ethereal calm. She seemed to _float_ rather than walk towards them, and the rags adorning her did not lessen her beauty.

Adam knew who it was. He lowered his weapon and bowed at the waist; the others followed suit. “Your Divine Majesty,” he had grilled Allura and Coran in diplomacy before they left. The Queen’s shoulders slackened as she sighed.

“Please, do not bow. I am no longer divine or majestic,” she requested. Her voice was soft, raspy, but melodic. Adam tried not to stare. Without pupils, he could not discern who she was looking at, or even if she could see them at all. “Are you the ones sent by Voltron?”

He nodded. “We are, Your majesty. My name is Adam. This is Romelle, Axca, Colleen, Elijah and Matt. We’re here to give you anything you need while Voltron and Atlas stabilizes your planet.”

Her long arms wrapped about her waist. “I am Idina. You’ve come just in time. We ran out of our last stores of food two rotations ago.” Two days. Two days they had been without food. Adam’s stomach gave a sympathetic pang. He recalled what those days felt and looked like.

“Where are the rest of your people?” Axca asked. Idina gestured to the cave.

“We took cover underground when the Galra began bombing our cities. We’ve been underground for so long that many of our children were born blind.” Adam inhaled a sharp breath. Elijah squeezed his shoulder from behind, his own expression twisted in agony.

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed.

Idina bowed her head. “We are a defeated people,” she whispered, and Adam heard the shame in her voice. The shame of a leader that believed they had disappointed those they were meant to protect. But it wasn’t _her fault_. They had only supported Voltron, supported freedom.

Matt stepped up; the strands of his ponytail fluttered as a polluted breeze swept past. “Not yet, you’re not. So long as you survive, you are a _victorious_ people,” he said. Adam grinned. He knew bringing Matt had been a good idea.

Adam looked around. “Are there any survivors under the rubble, do you know?”

“No. We saved everyone we could. The rest we had to leave for dead.”

Somehow, Axca was able to lurch past that heart-wrenching statement. “What about other underground outposts? Are there more?” Idina gave a start, as if she had not considered this.

“We have not been able to check,” she admitted. That means there may be other survivors. Adam would rather have everyone in one place than scattered around. He spun to face his team, jaw set.

“Colleen; start unloading the food we brought and prepare a greenhouse. Elijah, you’re with her. Ferry our supplies and unload. Axca, scout out a good place to set up defenses, in case some of the Galra escape Voltron and make their way back here. Matt, set up communications in the west sphere of the city. Romelle, take Bae-Bae to check for other underground parties. If there are any, lead them back here,” Matt was already jogging away, tapping away at his little pad. Colleen and Elijah gave a resolute nod and headed back towards the ship. Axca vanished without a word. Romelle gave him a curious look.

“What about you?” She asked.

Adam exhaled the knot in his stomach and turned to the Queen. “Idina, please, lead me to your people.”

...

Adam hadn’t given many speeches in his life. He had never _expected_ to deliver that many, much less on an alien planet, but Idina’s bright eyes and slumped shoulders ignited a flame in his chest. The cave where their allies had taken cover was damp, smelled of mold and despair. The hundreds cramped into the small space huddled around him, the only light coming from his own equipment and their natural glow.

He stood on a shard of broken glass above them; and clenched his fists. _No one_ should ever have to live like _rats_ on their own home. “Listen to me. I know your struggle. When the Galra invaded my planet, I hid in the mountains for years, surviving on the same dull food day after day, shivering in the cold, fearing for my life,” and the lives of the people he loved. He had lost Omar to that war. The loss was a physical pain, an emptiness he would never feel full again. That loss was also a kinship between him and these people.

“My planet, too, wasn’t even somewhat prepared for an invasion. Thousands were killed. Hundreds starved. Our cities toppled over. I know what is to be broken by the Galra,” and they _had_ broken him. He held up his prosthetic arm, clenched the robotic fingers.

He smiled down at the people he had come to help. Saw their inner strength, knew that they did not need his help. They had everything they needed. His only work was to show it to them. “But when I look at you, I do _not_ see defeat. I see endurance. When I look at you, I do not see destruction, I see community. I see hope,” he gave Idina a wink. “I know it hasn’t been easy. I know it _won’t_ be easy even after all this, but I promise you, it _will_ get better. But I need you to believe. I need you to remember a time when there was no Galra, no fear, no starvation, no blindness!” They shuffled in place, stunned by the passion in his voice. Adam continued. “What did your cities look like? What was your favorite thing about them? Come on, tell me!”

Silence. Adam crossed his arms and waited, feeling very much like he was a teacher back at the Garrison, pausing for someone to give the right answer. Except this, this was so much _more_ than a class on aerodynamics. Then, from the dimness, someone shouted; “I loved our market stands! How we could all sell our wares every other rotation!”

It opened a floodgate, as it always did.

“I loved the meadows with fresh flowers!”

“I loved our skyscrapers; how high they rose into the air!”

“I loved the smell of baked fistosa in the morning!”

“I loved the palace,” Idina whispered. “How it glittered in the light.”

“Good. You can _have_ those things again. You can never be those people again, but you can be better. Stronger. Victorious. Just like my people. But first,” Adam dropped to one knee, and extended his real hand out to them. He jerked his head back, out to the world beyond their gloomy existence. “You need to leave the darkness behind you. Come _out_ with me.”

The people shuffled backwards, as if afraid his hand might burn them. Except for one. She was smaller than the others, barely Adam’s height. Her skin was not twilight dark like the adults, but a maroon blue. Adam assumed she was a youngling. Hands folded meekly before her; she was the only one who remained. The others cringed and faded into the shadows, shivering, watchful. The girl met his gaze head-on. “How do we know we can trust you?” She demanded.

“Because not so long ago, I _was_ you,” he replied, with all the strength in his heart. The girl’s mouth curved into a small half-smile, and the bright centers that were her eyes suddenly flashed yellow. Like the lion’s when they met their Paladins.

A skeletal, but warm hand, gripped his own with surprising strength. Adam blinked away tears, inspired and relieved. She shrugged.

“I’d like to see the light, please.”

...

The planet shook insistently. Atlas’s tail was transparent through the clouds, blasting away at the environment beyond the city to cover Voltron. Adam ignored it most of the time, but they _did_ have a problem.

“Every day Voltron delivers more refugees they found in the forests and deserts. The city is overcrowded,” Colleen pointed out, a few hours after Hunk had delivered another sixty refugees that had been enslaved by the Galra to their makeshift stronghold. Adam and his team huddled in a close circle in the middle of the city, where Idina was organizing her people to collect their allotment of food.

“That’s because it’s still rubble,” Romelle hissed. She crossed her arms, brows thundering. The anguish of these people had struck a chord in her. Now the fierceness Adam had only seen in spurts was in full effect. “We can’t expect people to live like this. We need to make space by destroying the debris.”

Elijah grunted. “How do we do that? Every available ship is helping elsewhere on planet,” that was true. Adam rubbed his chin, studied the craters and caves of a destroyed city, and shrugged.

“I have an idea.”

...

Matt was not overly fond of his idea, but he still rigged up the explosives. He stood over Adam’s shoulder; the trigger clenched in one fist _. “More_ bombs, Adam?” He sighed.

“I’m rubbing off on him,” Romelle explained with a giggle. She was crouched next to Adam behind the protective barrier known as a boulder. Adam lowered his binoculars.

“Is everyone clear?” He snapped.

Romelle saluted. “Yes sir!”

It had been awhile since Adam had seen a good explosion. He waved a hand.

“Good. Fire in the hole!”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam makes an executive decision. The underdogs get their big mission.

When he was sixteen, Adam had a dream of his death. Only Takashi knew this.

However, as terrifying as that seemed, Adam adored nothing more than free-falling. Sitting in the capital city as the rest of the planet was under siege felt much like that. He could not help but focus deeply on everything except himself, felt the entire situation spiraling out of control around him.

He loved it.

He loved the challenge, the breath-taking vulnerability. Romelle, however, was not so confident. She cringed as the ground shook again, sending the floating lantern Matt had built spiraling in mid-air as papers and empty cups toppled from the shelves of their tent. Axca caught it without looking up from her blade, which she was polishing with a narrow-minded focus. “This battle has been waging for _so long_. What are they doing?” Romelle grumbled.

Adam didn’t look up from the reports he was writing up. “Slav and Sam have found a way to help save the planet. It’ll take some time to clear it and then dig into the core, though,” he replied. Colleen turned from where she was watering their smaller succulents. They weren’t edible, but apparently would help revitalize the bombed-out soil.

“What do we do, while they’re doing that?” She asked. Adam smiled. He had been thinking of this also for a few days now. At first, his ideas had scared him, but now he was just cruising, letting the winds and gravity pull at him without fighting it. He knew what he had to do, and he knew it would work. Simply because he willed it so.

“We build something that _won’t_ fall so easily next time,” he told them, finally adding the last period to his report. He looked up. Everyone had turned to him, eyebrows raised.

“Adam, we cain’t build an _entire city._ That would take _years,”_ Elijah pointed out.

He sighed and leaned his elbows on his knees. He was sitting on an empty crate. Outside, Idina and her people were comfortable in similar tents. But that wasn’t enough. “I don’t mean for us to build a city. I mean for us to build _a base,”_ he corrected.

There was silence. Elijah scratched behind his neck. Matt’s fingers drummed a rhythm against Bae-Bae’s belly. Romelle planted her hands on her hips. Axca set down her blade. Colleen hummed.

“Easily defendable,” Axca contemplated, rubbing her chin.

“Self-sufficient,” Matt added with a snap of his fingers.

“Big enough for everyone,” Elijah grunted.

“With an orphanage. And a school!” Romelle squeaked.

“Full of light,” Colleen finished, with a beaming smile.

Adam knew it would work. He held up the report, with large scrawling letters across the top. They read: _Proposal for Refugee Camp Construction._

“This is our adventure,” he told them, heart pounding with unhindered excitement. “ _This_ is our something more.”

* * *

The world had stopped shaking for two rotations and they had been building for twelve hours when Romelle found him. Adam was bare-chested, helping a crew of able aliens dig a trench for the plumbing to go through. Adam, after all, was not going to build them a camp without proper plumbing. He remembered living like that, and it _sucked._

“Adam. I just heard back from Keith and Allura!” Romelle gasped. She had obviously run to get there. Probably from across the city. Dirt and sweat coated her face and hands. She bent over, panting, but her eyes were wide with alarm. “The last Galra have been kicked off planet, and everything is stabilized. We’re supposed to be leaving _soon.”_

Adam heaved his entire body weight over the shovel and shoved it deeper into the dirt. Another trickle of sweat ran down his brow and trailed threateningly over the rim of his glasses. He reset it. “Oh yeah. I had a meeting about that this morning,” he agreed.

Romelle spluttered. “But… But we can’t just leave! The base isn’t finished yet!”

_Well, duh._

Adam decided now was as good a time as ever for a break. He stabbed his shovel into the ground, leaned against it. He gave Romelle an assuring smile. “We’re not leaving,” he promised. Romelle blinked rapidly.

“Um… Did Shiro say that?” She asked. Shiro this, Shiro that. Did anyone remember that Adam was also _a Captain?_ Still, he could understand her worry. Kashi could be very threatening when you hadn’t seen him stumble into the toilet at two o clock in the morning.

“No. I did,” he said patiently. Romelle stomped her foot.

“What did _Shiro_ say?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Adam picked his shovel back up and stooped to complete his work. Every muscle and strand of sinew in him ached, unaccustomed to the back-breaking work, but his heart sang. That was how he knew this was right. “We’re staying for as long as it takes to build and secure this base.”

“But…” Romelle looked up, helplessly. “ _The Atlas_ is leaving.”

He waved. “Let ‘em go! We’ll send a postcard.” Romelle stared at him for a couple of minutes, mouth opening and closing, eyes wide. He could see a thousand possibilities race in her eyes, the lectures Allura would give her, the trouble they might be in once they were back on the ship, the fact that they might need to fight to stay.

When those possibilities ran out, she laughed. Loud and true. “You’re crazy. I love it!” She cried. “But isn’t Shiro going to be, I don’t know, angry?”

Yeah, but they had been angry at each other before. Adam, for his part, was frustrated with Takashi about every two hours. The likelihood of it no longer scared him. They were too committed for that. “He’ll get over it. Now, how is Matt doing with the communications?”

* * *

Matt finished the communications in record time. He knelt at the console, rechecking the wiring. Adam stood behind him, eyes drifting across the cleared space as he held Matt’s box of tools for him. It was humble work, being a leader of men.

The console started blinking green, and Matt popped his head up to grin. “Yes! It works!” he cried. Adam smiled.

“Great job Matt. Who’s hailing us though?” Matt squinted at the screen, whistled low.

“Ha ha. That’s Atlas. Should I _accidentally_ lose the signal?” He wondered. Adam considered it, but then shook his head. He would have to explain this eventually, best to get it out of the way now. He handed Matt his toolbox and waved at the machine.

“Nah. I’ve got this. You go ahead and finish helping Axca with the outer walls,” he said. Matt closed the small toolbox with a click and a half-teasing salute.

“You got it, Captain,” then he was gone, and Adam was alone with only Takashi’s face on the screen. Normally, this would be fine with him. He was quite attached to Kashi’s face, but not when he looked so concerned. Adam gave his most reassuring smile, aware that his face was covered in dirt and scratches and probably some of his own blood.

“Hey babe.”

“Adam. What are you doing? You were supposed to be on the ship an hour ago. Are you ok? Is something wrong?” Kashi asked in a rush. “I can have the MFE’s down there in…”

“No, no, no!” Adam cried. Ok, so maybe not telling Takashi his plans beforehand had not been the wisest or nicest idea. Noted. “Kashi, we’re all fine. I promise,” he waited for his lover's face to relax before continuing. “We’re staying.”

Kashi’s relieved expression quickly soured again. Adam tended to have that effect on people. It was a gift. “You’re _what?”_

“You heard me.”

“Um…” Takashi shook his head as if waking from a weird dream. “Adam, the threat has passed. We need to help other planets in this system.”

“You go ahead,” Adam supposed. He stretched his sore arms above his head, trying for casualness. “We’ll catch up.”

Shiro arched a brow. “You know I’m gonna need more than that.” Oh, he was using his stern voice again. Adam decided jokes could wait.

“We’re building a refugee base here,” he finally admitted.

“You’re what?” Takashi repeated, as blankly as the first time.

“When you liberate and save the other planets, the people of those devastated cities will need somewhere to go and restart. So, we’re building a base here. For them,” he explained. Takashi nodded slowly, probably trying to find the words to talk Adam out of this.

“Adam… That’ll take another few weeks,” he broached carefully.

Adam strove for patience. “I estimate three weeks, exactly,” he had written an entire proposal on it in fact. “We have a lot of the groundwork already laid down.”

“And the others are… Fine with this?”

Adam peered out of the window. Even from their meagre communications tent, he could see Axca outside teaching a group of natives how to yield broken pipes and axes as weapons. Colleen was further away, diligently planting a new garden. The young ones were with her, listening to instructions on how to care for their new food system. Adam shrugged. “Pretty much.”

“Adam, I know you pity these people…”

“I don’t _pity_ them, Takashi,” he corrected sharply. Idina and her people were not to be disparaged with pity. “I understand them. Once upon a time, I _was_ them. Hiding out in the barren wilderness to escape Galra invasion, and in a day some weird aliens in a giant spaceship arrive and save the day without anyone knowing they existed. Waltz in with supplies and materials and then waltz back out. But _we_ get to leave, Takashi, we get to move on. These people,” Adam jabbed a finger at the wasteland behind him.

“ _This_ is their reality now. The supplies Atlas brought are a mediocre excuse for a band-aid. Their cities are destroyed, their people are dead or broken, their lives are… Forever changed. On Earth, I survived, and I lead others to survive as well. If I can do the same thing here, I’m going to do it. No matter what.”

Shiro sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose. “The Earth Garrison command won’t like it,” he warned. Adam was tempted to laugh at that one. Was it supposed to _dissuade_ him? Once, they had been pupils of the Garrison, but Adam felt he had grown out of that institution by now.

“I don’t like how they found my supposedly dead fiancé, strapped him to a metal table and didn’t tell me he was alive. We can all learn to forgive each other,” he scoffed. Takashi gazed at him with no small amount of exasperation.

“There’s no talking you out of this, is there?”

Now he was starting to get it. Adam met those crystal gray eyes head-on. “You told me to find a job that played into my strengths, one I was passionate about. Well, I’m a leader who is passionate about helping refugees get back on their feet,” he informed him.

Then, softening, he added; “Imagine what we can _do_ here, Kashi! We can build the first intergalactic refugee center; and keep building them. Ten thousand years of disruption and oppression isn’t going to solve itself in a few years. We need to give people a leg to stand on,” he had never been the speech-giving type, but Takashi’s severe expression melted into an understanding smile. So apparently, he was good at it. Or maybe he was just good at Takashi. Either one.

“Alright, I get it,” his lover chuckled. “I’m sending The Paladins down to…”

“What do I need them for?” Adam interrupted.

Takashi’s eyebrows rose. “Um, to help ferry supplies…?” He suggested.

 _Wrong,_ Adam thought. He smirked. “Already have Elijah on it. Romelle is scheduled to arrive with the last of our supplies right about…” He glanced up as their ship appeared on the horizon. _This_ was free-falling. “Now.”

“What about building a communication…?”

“I have Matt.”

“Oh, he’s with _you_?”

“You need to pay more attention to your crew,” Adam scolded, rolling his eyes. Takashi ignored the subtle reprimand.

“ _Protection,_ Adam, I can’t leave you there without any means of defense…”

“We’ve all fought a war, Kashi. We’re not helpless. Besides, Axca has already set up a watch, guard tower and basic defense. It’s Axca. We’re set.”

Takashi was momentarily stupefied. Adam was pleased. It took a lot to catch Takashi control freak Shirogane off-guard. “Um… Alright,” Kashi released a slow breath, then drew himself up with a smile. “Alright. I should have known you’d figure it all out. How long do you need to complete your mission, _Captain?”_

The way he enunciated captain was slightly naughty. Adam refused to let it distract him, which meant not looking at his lover directly. Because he was focused. Yeah. “Give me three weeks to get everyone settled and on their feet. I just want to give them a foundation before letting them stand on their own.”

“Ok. We’re going to liberate planets further out. After three weeks, I _am_ sending Voltron to pick you up. And you’ll keep in contact?” Adam raised his eyes, hearing the thread of anxiety in Kashi’s voice.

“A written and verbal report every week and I _will_ call you every night,” he promised. _This won’t be like last time,_ he tried to say with his eyes. _We aren’t losing each other._

Takashi gave a slight nod. Message received. Adam would marvel at their superior communication skills later. “Alright. Well… Good luck. I love you.” Atlas started to move away, swallowed by brightening clouds. Adam inhaled a breath full of dirt, but it felt like freedom. Like _purpose._

“I love you too. And Kashi?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for believing in me.”

Takashi’s eye roll was indulgent. He waved his prosthetic. “Go. Be great.”

“Right. Miss you already! Bye!” He disconnected the call before Takashi could change his mind, which honestly was a very real threat. He bowed over the communications hub, relieved. That call had gone a lot better than he had anticipated it would. Suddenly, Matt popped his head around the corner.

“Can we stay?” He asked in a harsh whisper. “Are we mutinying?”

Adam swiveled around, hands on his hips, as if he had never been worried. “Of course we’re staying.” Then he jumped as Romelle let out a shrill scream. She appeared in the doorway, shaking her hips in a small dance.

“Eeh! Adam, this is so amazing! We’re going to do such great work!” She yelled.

“You bet. What’s that?” He fingered the thin slice of paper she held in her hands as Elijah, Colleen and Axca also crowded into the room with satisfied grins.

“One of the little one’s drew me a picture. See?” Romelle held it out so they could all see the giant squares and green circles that could theoretically be called a city in the middle of a field if one turned it. And squinted. Still, it was bright and had two beautiful suns in the sky. “She says that’s the kind of home she would like to live in one day. A Haven.”

“Maybe that’s what we’ll call ourselves, then,” Elijah harrumphed, catching Adam’s eye.

“Haven League,” Colleen marveled. Adam grinned and swiveled on a heel to face the world outside. The haven they would soon help build for thousands.

“Sounds good to me,” he declared. “Haven league! Let’s get to work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, at this point I'm just posting because I want to read my own stuff online, lol.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the direct sequel to Lost Stars (Prick the dark if you need some Light). If you haven't read that yet, I would suggest you go back for some basic info. Otherwise, things may be a little confusing from now on.


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